“You’ve been mine since the day you walked into the clubhouse holding your granny’s hand,” he said, his thumb stroking across my cheekbone. “Skinny little thing with the saddest eyes I’d ever seen. I took one look at you, and that was it for me. Ten years old and done for. I just didn’t know what to call it yet.”
Tears burned behind my eyes. “Weston?—”
“I’m not finished.” His voice was rough. “I fucked up before. I made a choice that wasn’t mine to make, and it cost us eight years. But I’m not a dumb kid anymore, baby. Your career, the club, the miles—we’ll figure it out. I’ll ride to every city on that tour if that’s what it takes. I’ll get on a fucking plane, and you know how much I hate flying. Hell, I’ll learn to play the goddamn tambourine if I have to, but this,” he motioned between us. “This is forever. You’re not getting rid of me, and I’m not letting you go. Not ever again. That’s what this means.”
I don’t know what my face did, but it must have been something, because his whole expression softened.
“That what you wanted to hear?” he asked.
“Yes,” I whispered, and then I kissed him, because words were hard and there wasn’t one big enough for what was ballooning inside my chest.
He kissed me back slow and deep, one hand fisting in my hair, and I felt that kiss all the way down to the soles of my feet.
When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing hard, and his eyes had gone dark in a way that promised very unproductive things for his payroll.
“Oh, no,” I giggled, catching the time on his computer screen.
12:47.
I scrambled off his lap. “I gotta go. I’m meeting Rodney at one.”
The muscle in his jaw was ticking as he wrestled the caveman back into his cage. “Want me to drive you?”
“It’s three blocks, honey. I’ll walk. The fresh air will do me good, and if you come, you’ll sit in a booth across the diner glaring at my drummer until he cries.”
His lips twitched. “That doesn’t sound that bad.”
I rolled my eyes. “Weston.”
He sighed and stood, pulling me against him. “Phone on. One hour. You feel even a little bit off, about anything, you call me, and I’m there in two minutes.”
“One hour,” I promised, going up on my toes to kiss him one more time. “Then I’m all yours.”
“You’re all mine now,” he growled against my lips.
I laughed and slipped out of his arms, heading for the door. I could feel his eyes burning a hole in my back the entire walk down that hallway and past the stage.
He’d be okay.
It was just an hour.
Chapter Twelve
Hattie Lynn
When I walkedinto Dottie’s Diner, the smell of fried chicken and homemade cinnamon rolls wrapped around me.
Yum.
“Hattie!” Rodney called out, standing from the booth near the window where he was sitting.
“Hey!” I waved, weaving through the lunch crowd to reach him.
Rodney was in jeans and a gray henley instead of his usual cardigan, which struck me as vaguely off, like seeing your gynecologist at the beach. It was out of place.
“Hey, Rod.” I slid into the booth across from him. “Long time no see.” I teased. I’d literally seen him just a few days ago in Chicago.
“Three days and ten hours,” he said.
